001: Lab Specimens [Holo]

[a-pretty-fire.livejournal.com]

“I had a dream about the hanged man.” Without opening her eyes, Drusilla stepped off the platform. She didn’t need to peep out in order to see. She could smell it from here. The change in the air, the sickening metal tang of the machines, the whispers of the false stars. It wasn’t right. “Is he upside down, or did he miss the world turning around him?”

She had missed it. Too caught up in the Slayer and her battles to remember to fight her own. No wonder it had been so hard for Daddy – no, not Daddy … the other one – to free himself from her. No wonder she’d been able to take the edge off Spike’s beautiful wickedness. Buffy Summers had made a web for them all, without even realising that she was weaving. It had been foolish of Drusilla to get so close, but the Slayer had taken her in and tended her – like a mouse pulling a thorn from a lion’s paw – and there had been nowhere else to go. She’d needed someone to take care of her after the tin soldiers had finished their work, and she and Buffy had been tied together a long time ago, whether the Slayer had seen it or not.



“We’re going to miss all the fireworks.”

Drusilla had been waiting and waiting for the party, waiting ever since the Dawn had arrived. There was a lock now, a solid something for the key to open, and the universe was going to shake with the force of it all.

Was. Would. Had. Drusilla couldn’t tell. It was all mixing together in her head, the past and the present and future, splintering and reforming.

Slowly, she raised a hand and ran a finger over the metal band at her other wrist. If she didn’t open her eyes, she wouldn’t have to see, but she could, she could.

“More science,” the vampire whispered, before dropping her wrist and clutching her temples with a shriek of fury. “No, no, no!”

She remembered waking up a gleaming white cell. She remembered the way the pixies had pulled desperately at her chip to try and save her from it. She remembered the pain that thundered through her head every time she thought her wicked thoughts or bared her teeth for something to eat. A broken vampire who couldn’t even bite. She remembered, she remembered, she remembered.

“No more wires,” she growled, opening her eyes, “No filthy little tricks. There’s no room in my head. You won’t put them there, you won’t.”

It was different, this room. Sleek and scientific, yes, but she didn’t recognise the edge to the metal. They’d taken her somewhere new. Maybe it would be worse than the wires. They wanted her to be a lab rat, racing round and round through mazes and through wheels. Well, she wasn’t going to play. Not for them. The Slayer would be coming soon. They’d burn this place to the ground and Drusilla would dance on the ashes and paint her face with charcoal streaks to make sure she didn’t forget.

Thoughts of Buffy’s fearsome retribution calmed Drusilla. After a moment or two, she began to make her way slowly around the room, contemplating important things – how to escape, the colour of a new moon, the lick of the flames already dancing inside her head.

“Is anybody here?” she asked, in a singsong voice, “You can come out and play with me. We can sing nursery rhymes.”

She wanted to play, even if the games had changed over the last few years. She was hungry. She was always hungry. She’d been hungry even since the tin men had bound her to pig’s blood and stopped her from drinking …

Her thoughts took her too far. Her hungry smile was replaced almost instantly with growl of pain, and she clutched her head and doubled up. When she looked up a moment later, her expression was almost petulant. That wasn’t fair. You couldn’t let her get caught up in the moment and then snap the vices back tight.

“That’s cheating.”

Comments

[Visual]

[oldoldghost.livejournal.com]

Brigitta looks faintly torn between being fascinated and as close to scared as she can get these days; in the end she settles for fascinated- for fear is a sign of weakness after all and she can't allow that to happen.

"...The hanged man?"

[a-pretty-fire.livejournal.com]

Drusilla, still clutching at her head, looked up at the tablet in surprise. She'd been caught up in the tangles of technology in her head, and hadn't noticed the small machine resting nearby. That was new. A piece of the puzzle that she hadn't been expecting. A rook or a pawn? It couldn't be a castle.

Lowering her hands, the vampire moved closer, her head tilted to one side. She reached out to tap the screen with a white finger. Another prisoner. (How many had the tin men captured this time?) What wires were worming through her brain, hmmm? What nasty circuits fizzed in her skull?

"Are you trapped?"

[oldoldghost.livejournal.com]

Brigitta currently has no circuits weaving a path in her skull; she has trappings (oh yes, endlessly repressed dreams and barely held back panic and the moments where she's right back in the cave with the rock crushing her lungs) but nothing mechanical; one may say thank heavens for that- she has far too much information on appearing normal for anything else to fit.

Of course; she doesn't let any of this show on her face "we're all trapped; alien overlords probably- nice to meet you, I'm Brigitta."

Seems a nice way to start a conversation; it might not last long.

[visual]

[beholdthedrums.livejournal.com]

"The hanged man was forgotten," quips the Master in reply to the newcomer. Quite the strange one, at that, but those were simply the best, and as of recent events, he's been needing to pull at the strings of others. He had to relieve stress in some way, after all. "He will never be remembered. That is what Time does to all." To most. Not to him.

The Master grins slowly, folding his hands and stretching back in a chair. He's wearing a simple white dress shirt and pants; in the background there were similar sleek walls, but strung with various scraps of equipment, machinery, occasional streamers of wires, tools. He really must organize the mess some in the near future... It should not match the disarray of his mind.

He continues, "Instead of finding freedom and finding a way to move forward, the only truth is that you will be forever trapped, and no one will ever play fair. What a sad fate. " He does not sound very sympathetic. He cocks his head to the side and regards her.

[a-pretty-fire.livejournal.com]

"I remember him," Drusilla replied, with a definite edge to her voice. Who was this man, to question what he didn't understand? (Very few people could understand. The old sorcerers had all drifted away or dwindled to nothing, and only Drusilla kept her eye on the old ways.)

"Time. Time. Time. You're covered in it."

She let out a low growl at the last comment. Freedom - her freedom - had been far away for a terribly long time. She couldn't catch it, not even with the tips of her fingers. The Slayer had taken it away first, and then the tin men, and now this echoing man was trying to tell her what she already knew.

"We're all trapped here," she said, still under the impression that the Initiative was responsible for her current incarceration. Like rats. Or rabbits.

[visual]

[lessritual.livejournal.com]

"Dru?" See this? This was Spike with his eyes bugging out. Who's going to be next, Harmony?

There were boxes behind him in the little nondescript apartment. He'd been planning to move for a day or two. They went completely unnoticed now as he leaned in, looking closely at the hologram of Drusilla....and found the little red light that indicates recording was on.

"Damned bloody thing!" he cursed at it, and it looked like he might try to fling it across the room for a moment. But then the anger drained quickly away as he resigned himself and nodded at the screen. "Hi, Dru."

He was too familiar with that incredible pain, the one that took over every sense with bad intent- but seeing as he wasn't expecting Drusilla to be here at all (for some reason), it may take awhile for that one to sink in.

[a-pretty-fire.livejournal.com]

Drusilla straightened up as soon as she heard that voice, her pain temporarily forgotten. Such a familiar voice. She'd heard it singing of death and destruction, once upon a time. She'd come to know it as well as she knew the voices that whispered in her ear in the moonlight. Until she'd ran away from him.

"No! No ... no ... you can't be here ..."

She'd ran away. She'd left him behind to catch the Slayer, but she'd been swept up instead. In the end, it had been easier to stay in Sunnydale. She kept on running, all the while standing still.

"They're going to get you. Spike! The tin soldiers. You can't be here."

[lessritual.livejournal.com]

And now it was once again time to translate Drusilla's words. It wasn't as if he didn't have experience with that. "Tin soldiers caught me awhile back, Dru. This is something entirely different."

And now he furrowed his brow, remembering what he'd seen. "Dru, you-" She'd reacted like she had a chip in her head, but that never happened...unless the Initiative continued on elsewhere, which was entirely possible given the nature of government institutions. Especially secret ones.

He shifted in his seat, wincing as his back hit the back of his chair. Thanks to plenty of blood he'd been healing right along, but he still wasn't in the best of shape after that humiliating beatdown they'd received from that other vampire. He ignored it the best he could.

"The tin soldiers, did they mess with your head? Put somethin' in it?"

[visual]

[likeajoan.livejournal.com]

A much the worse for wear looking Buffy (replete with numerous attractive bruises) stared down at her tablet, which had been laying dormant and idle on the couch next to her, until Drusilla's hologram popped up.

...at which point Buffy's eyes widened momentarily with surprise-- which then quickly dulled to a sort of exhausted resignation.

"Oh god, please tell me this is a painkiller induced hallucination."

[a-pretty-fire.livejournal.com]

"It's the Slayer," the vampire crowed delightedly, in a singsong voice. That was quick. Even Drusilla hadn't expected a rescue just yet. (She could have grown wings, to race here so swiftly, but Drusilla knew better than that, didn't she? Her Slayer would never be an angel. She walked far too close to hell for that.)

Her smile froze on her lips when she picked up the tablet and peered at the figure on the screen.

"You're hurt," she said, sharply, though her anger wasn't directed at Buffy, "Did the soldiers get you? Did you break them?"

[likeajoan.livejournal.com]

Oh boy. Buffy had almost forgotten Drusilla's own charming brand of weirdness, and in her current state she wasn't best equipped to deal with it.

"Not that hurt." She retorted, attempting to straighten up a little, to project her traditional steely firmness, in case Drusilla was getting any untoward ideas about finishing her off. Sadly the effect was dampened considerably by the way she flinched at even the tiniest movement. She frowned, confused by the question- of course she'd never really make the Initiative association with Drusilla.

"Soldiers? What? No, there's no soldiers. Why would there be soldiers?"

[visual]

[glowingseer.livejournal.com]

...crap, not another vampire in Taxon! And Drusilla, of all non-people!

Cordelia placed a hand on her mouth, panicking for a bit. Sure, this place wasn't welcoming its first vampire or anything, but it still felt... suffocating. This one was dangerous and loony and crazy and did she mention loony?

"Crap," she said. Cordelia looked up and muttered, "Geez Taxon, who's next - Darla?"

[a-pretty-fire.livejournal.com]

"Grandmummy?" The familiar name, unfortunately for Cordelia, attracted Drusilla's attention immediately. She still missed Darla sometimes, when she wasn't busy missing Spike and Daddy or wondering where her dinner was going to come from with no veins to open. But Grandmummy wouldn't want her anymore, not now. She'd left Angelus because of his soul, and she would surely leave poor Drusilla because of her chip.

"No. She won't come here. She's gone back to dust."

She peered at Cordelia, with the air of a cat sizing up a mouse. She might not be able to take a bite, but she did like to look.

"I know your face."

[glowingseer.livejournal.com]

"Well, yeah. Thank God," she replied, in regards to Darla becoming dust. Cordelia frowned as she pondered if this Drusilla was talking about the first or the second time Darla became dust, though.

She cleared her throat. "Ah, really?" Cordelia asked. She wasn't really sure if she should be flattered or not - well, who would be flattered that a psycho vamp knew him or her and would probably target him or her at the end of the day, right?

[visual]

[tothelibrary.livejournal.com]

Dawn's eyes widen at the hologram that pops up from her tablet, before looking frightened and then exasperated, in turn. "No playing. There has been far too much playing this week."

[a-pretty-fire.livejournal.com]

"It's the Dawn bird," said Drusilla, more to herself than to Dawn. If Miss Edith had been here, she would have acted as a confident, but Drusilla was all alone in the gleaming room - science nipping at her heels - and she had to make do. "But she isn't supposed to be here. Should be hiding away, else the flames will gobble her up."

She turned her attention back to Dawn's image on the tablet.

"But I didn't get to play in them."

[tothelibrary.livejournal.com]

"That's me. The bird of Dawnliness." Normally, Dawn might be a little more cautious in saying things that might upset the seriously insane vampire. But it's been a seriously weird week, and her sister-- and Dean-- are hurt, so her already somewhat tragic sense of self preservation is edging towards nil. "And no flames. Or gobbling. Just the weirdness of alien abduction."

Crossing her arms over her chest and leveling the 'mess with me and you'll regret it' glare she learned from Buffy, Dawn shakes her head, firmly. "No playing. We have two Slayers, and Spike is on our side now. Playing is hereby verboten."

[visual]

[hulk]

"Are you, uh, all right there, miss?" Bruce had kind of tuned out on the rest of her intro because talking led to meeting people, but once he saw the distress, he couldn't help himself.

[a-pretty-fire.livejournal.com]

Another new face. So many people, captured and caught and pinned to the cardboard. Drusilla had yet to decide if they were nice people or not. It was terribly hard to find somebody nasty enough to be nice.

"No," she answered, with a shake of her head. Her eyes - unnaturally dark in very pale face - were wide. "I'm lost. Shouldn't be here. None of us should be here."

[hulk]

Bruce nodded, a small grimace on his face at her words.

"...Yeah, that's the short of it, definitely," he sighed. "But are you hurt or anything? I mean, beyond the whole. Kidnapped, abducted part."

[ visual ]

[undoing.livejournal.com]

Of all the people who could've shown up in Taxon, the last person he expected to see was her, the woman he'd driven mad and sired over a century ago. Angelus' grandest masterpiece, living proof of just how cruel he'd been prior to those gypsies cursing him with his soul. When he was near her, she served as a constant reminder of the monster he used to be.

"Drusilla."

[a-pretty-fire.livejournal.com]

"It's still not Daddy."

But that was good. Daddy would be so disappointed to see her like this. His beautiful, bloody masterpiece didn't have any bite anymore. She didn't have any snap. He'd be ashamed of her!

To try and shake away her sorrow, Drusilla began to walk in a slow circle around her new prison.

"Did they catch the Angel Beast?" she murmured, to nobody in particular, "Careless, he is. The soul isn't enough for him. Don't be angry with me, Daddy! I did the best I could ..."

[undoing.livejournal.com]

"The aliens? The aliens caught all of us, Dru."

As intangible as Drusilla's babbling could be, what she was going on about now was even more confusing. Usually Angel could make some sense of what she was saying from having spent so much time around the woman he'd sired, but at the moment...he didn't have a clue. And that bothered him for reasons he'd blame on this place and what it seemed to be doing to people.

Sighing, he offered up, "I'm not angry with you, but I need you to tell me what you did."

Was it possible she was from a point in time further along than he was? Or maybe she was doing something somewhere else, away from LA and Sunnydale and California altogether. It was Dru, after all.

[visual]

[an-ex-watcher.livejournal.com]

Wesley watches the visual transmission from Drusilla for several minutes, debating whether or not to respond. He's not sure in the end why he turns the visual on; perhaps because she's the only member of Angel's family he hasn't truly met, and his suicidal curiosity is getting the better of him.

"Hello, Drusilla," he says softly.

[a-pretty-fire.livejournal.com]

"I don't know the face," Drusilla mused, with only a cursory glance at her tablet and Wesley's image. "But he knows me."

She had sat down on the platform and remained there with her knees to her chest, perfectly still. Waiting for something. Or someone. She wasn't sure. The pixies didn't want to tell her what was going to happen next. She didn't much like surprises, unless they were pretty presents or hearts in boxes.

"How does he know me, hmmm?"